


Somber Smiles

by Wayward_Worms



Series: Angst brainworms [5]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira not processing his own grief, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5), akechis shit mental health, akiras god complex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25450999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Worms/pseuds/Wayward_Worms
Summary: Three days had slipped by Akechi without much warrant, to wrapped up in his exhaustion and questionable worry for the boy who had once lived in the attic of a vintage cafe.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Angst brainworms [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883593
Kudos: 85





	Somber Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> I deleted this previously, but i spent to much time mulling over this thought to want it gone forever.  
> I’m reposting it with Anon commenting off. I’m normally much stronger than that, but being called mental kinda hurts lol.

Three days had slipped by Akechi without much warrant, to wrapped up in his exhaustion and questionable worry for the boy who had once lived in the attic of a vintage cafe. 

It was his job though. Akira's death meant one step closer to his target. One step closer to taking out the man who was responsible for every mishap in his life. Yet he couldn’t find the motivation to do anything more than lay on his couch, warily watching the bright colors on his television bounce around his cold and dim apartment. 

Akechi needed some sort of closure. Sure, he had put a bullet through his.. _boyfriends_ head, drew out a rehearsed monologue and had, weeks prior, admitted his seething and undying hatred for the boy, but.. they were mere lies, the truth seeping harshly through his three day mourning, with the unhelpful voice of Robin Hood in the back of his head.

Loki’s mirrored silence had made him writhe against his blankets, the stern bellowing voice of Robin Hood only breaking through. 

_“Dear child, why do you weep?”_

Akechi hunched his shoulders, laughing pitifully. 

“I miss him, Robin.. even though he’s opposed so many of my views, I miss his company. I miss the lingering scent of coffee that always managed to follow him. I miss his stupidly warm smiles.. I…” he seized as he felt tears prick at his eyes, rushing to hide his eyes. 

Robin didn’t respond, leaving Akechi to stew quietly, sniffling every so often. He’d managed to quip his tears, yet his chest still seized. _He needed his closure._

Akechi allowed himself a minute, shakily sitting up, faux dusting his sleep shirt he’d _borrowed_ from Akira, many months previous when he’d been holed up with the ravenette, due to a heavy downpour. There was no need to change, seeing as it was already late. A simple “you have the wrong person” would be handy if he had the unfortunate chance of bumping into paparazzi or fan girls. 

Akechi stood from his spot, stretching out his tired muscles, languidly walking towards his bedroom, throwing the featherman hoodie Akira had gifted him months prior. He could clearly remember the bullshit lie the other had given him, face flushed a dark red. 

_“I originally bought it for Futaba, but as it turns out, she already had this sweatshirt.”_

Fucking bullshit. He’d _accidentally_ seen the other boy buy it, watching Akira as he eyed different ray gun models similar to the one he wielded in the metaverse. Watched how Akira had asked the staff _“which featherman character wielded the ‘proof of justice’ gun,”_ and how the clerk had lit up, gushing about Featherman R, cringing inwardly at the mention of his own name. 

_“Did you know Akechi-kun’s a fan of Featherman? Coincidentally, it happens to be his favorite character as well.”_

Akechi had watched Akira's face flush that day as well, the way he’d awkwardly scratched at his neck, nodding along. 

He honestly should’ve punched Akira for not only his display, but blatant lie, before killing him. 

It’s not like any of that mattered now. Now clad in a bright featherman hoodie with clashing green sweatpants, Akechi left his apartment, muttering soft hellos to the dwindling occupants who littered the halls. Mostly older women on the higher floors and prostitutes nearing the lower floors. 

From there, he let his feet guide him out of Kichijoji, to the train station, and eventually to the closed Café. Hastily, he rummaged around for the spare key Boss had given him, unsure why the old man ever trusted him. 

His luck spiked as he twisted the key, door jiggling loose, inquiring that the old man never changed the lock, even after Akechi murdered the boy who once occupied the attic. 

Stepping in, Akechi melted, emotions hitting like a ton of bricks. It still felt like home to him. The warm and comforting scent of the different coffee beans assaulting his senses as he slowly traversed up the creaky stairs. 

The attic was cold, dust beginning to settle atop the many knickknacks Akira had acquired over the past few months, dragging a finger over a few said items that they had gotten together. 

Even Akiras makeshift bed had been made, Akechi sniffling idly at the notion the owner would never get to lay down in this bed again. 

Hastily, Akechi laid down, dragging a sleeved hand to muffle his mouth as he sobbed pitifully. It was unlike him to break like this. Break over a fucking _stepping stone_. 

He’d killed the only good thing in his life without hesitation. Without any sort of drawback, the way he grinned as he cocked the silencer against the others head, laughing lightly as he shot. It was all a rush, knowing who’d be next. 

But now? All he could do was cry, gripping pathetically at the sheets. What was he to do now? What would he do after he killed Shido? He originally had planned just to go down in Shidos' ship, having fulfilled his purpose in life. But.. he’d met Akira, his entire attitude shifting over the dates they had spent together, The ravenette little by little, breaking Akechi’s walls down whenever he could, always offering a ear or a shoulder for the brunette to cry on, and Akechi always scowling and telling him _“I’d rather die before crying in front of you.”_

  
  


“Akechi?” 

The brunette in question let out another broken sob. 

_“Now I’m hearing voices. As if breaking down wasn’t bad enough.”_

The voice cleared its throat, begging for the brunette's attention, Akechi only scowling and curling further in on himself. 

“Shut the _hell up.”_ His words lacked the initial venom he desired, dripping pathetically from his shaking form. 

He continued sniveling, dragging his knees to his chest as he heard a shuffling of what could be bags, followed by a soft thump. 

“Akechi, are you okay?” _Great_ now the voice was attempting to console him. It’d be much better if the voice didn’t sound so much like Akiras. 

“m just peachy. I don’t need you mocking me..” Akechi’s entire body froze up as he felt the bed dip, warily peaking through his fingers. 

_Fuck_.

The brunettes breath hitched, desperately holding onto any decency he could muster up, only crumbling mere moments later as he let out an ugly cry, sitting up weakly as he sobbed. 

“You better be fucking real, I..” he choked on his spit, breath hitching once more. 

“Hey, Ah, Akechi you need to calm down.” Warm arms pulled Akechi close, the elder seizing up at the gesture, refusing to give in and relax just yet. 

“ _I.. I killed you. I’m fucking positive I…”_ it’s as though he was kicked off his own block. Akechi’s breath kept wavering, hitching every so often. 

“You did, technically.” The imposter wearing Akira’s face, shifted, pulling Akechi closer to his chest. 

“You killed Saes cognition of me. So yes, you technically did kill me..” the imposter? sighed, softly lifting Akechi’s head up, smiling gently. 

For the millionth time that night, his breath hitched, heart skipping to many beats to be considered healthy, coming face to face with a ghost.


End file.
